Josiah William Paul

At 10:19 in the morning, Josiah William Paul, entered the world--screaming. He weighed 8lb 6oz and was about 20 inches and a quarter. Josiah means fire of the Lord, which seemed apt after the interesting pregnancy. His middle names honor both his great grandfathers and grandfather, respectively. For short, we will call him Jed, not Jo. So far, he is an outstanding nurser and a cute, little bird. I think he looks like Elias, but with a bigger forehead and darker hair. Other people see Adelaide in him with his very dark hair. I had forgotten how nice it is to snuggle with a newborn. Welcome, Josiah.

The natural childbirth that never was...

About three weeks ago, I was reading an article that claimed c-sections in the United States were at an all time high--close to 36% of all births. This is a much higher rate than ten years ago and even higher than close advanced industrialized nations like Canada and the U.K. As I read the article, I felt guilty knowing I was going to add to their statistics as I faced my third c-section. And, on top of it all, I knew this was going to be a planned c-section, not an emergency one after hard work and labor. I felt surprisingly sad knowing that the neighboring state, New Jersey, had the highest c-section rate in the country. I wondered if I had become a Jersey girl flashing my nails and make-up and my clean shaven legs as they would wheel me into the OR without a contraction in sight. And, yet, of course, I know there is more to my story than this.

My first experience with pregnancy and labor was so much like I had hoped. I was seen by a midwife practice and the Birkenstocks and the nodding and listening were so very important to my first pregnancy. As you can imagine, when everything is new it is really nice to be listened to and to be cared for. I also recall this pregnancy had very little medical intervention. We had some of the regular screening and the 20 week ultrasound, but beyond that all I remember is that towards the end they wanted me to get more iron in my diet. (Adam used that as a great excuse to get a good iron skillet.) The disadvantage to using the midwives was that it was a practice. So, we didn't know who would be with us for the birth and we saw 8 different caregivers on a rotating basis.

When I finally went into labor, I labored at home for a full 24 hours and had a standing appointment with the midwives the next day. At that appointment, I learned that I was 6cm dilated and we were told to head right over to the hospital. Of course, once we got there things slowed, and finally I agreed to take some pitocin so we wouldn't have to go home. I was close to 41 weeks at this time. By evening I was having lots of contractions and by about 3 in the morning my midwife suggested an epidural so I could rest. I had been going into two nights of labor at this point with no real sleep. Adam and I conked out for a couple of hours and then I started pushing for close to 3 hours when it became apparent that the baby was not going to come out. So at about 6 in the morning, I was wheeled into the OR and met our dear Elias after a very long wait. And my wonderful midwife was still there. She actually snapped some pictures of him as he was coming out of the womb.

I cherish the memory of that time, even though I was not the grunting woman in the rice paddy that I had hoped to be. I tried everything and worked very hard. I had the midwife's support and she assured me of my strength and bravery. But, even in the park a few months later, I met a woman from my birthing class who was dogmatic about the benefits of natural childbirth and midwifery. When she heard I had a c-section all she could say was , "Oh, you must have been so disappointed." And while I was, I also wanted her to acknowledge the gift that c-section was so that I could have this baby of mine.

My second pregnancy had to be with a doctor because our insurance would not allow us to have midwives with the history of a c-section. I was happy enough to find a doctor who would support me in my decision to have a VBAC. While I knew a VBAC might work, I also knew that I was mentally prepared for the possibility of another c-section. I had fewer questions for the dr this time, and she definitely took a faster approach than the midwives, but it was all fine. Again, there was little medical intervention, except at the very end when she wanted me to be induced if I made it to 41 weeks.

This time my doula took the place of the midwife by providing emotional support and preparation for the labor. We worked on different positions and breathing. We talked about the many different ways to push this baby out. My labor was textbook. I used the birthing ball, I climbed in the tub, I pushed against the wall, I thought I wasn't going to make it and then they said "You're there. It's time to push." Two hours later, no baby. When the doctor came in, I asked her what the chances were of this kid coming out the old-fashioned way and she said not so great. I said then let's go. I was ready for my c-section. All was well except I was contracting while they were trying to get a needle in my spine, but all was well and Adelaide came out as healthy as could be.

So, this time I'm in a new city and know no one and find out I'm pregnant. I don't want to mention it to anyone, but I find this little store in town that has progressive written all over it and they do all kinds of birth related work. I asked for a recommendation from the owner after briefly describing my history. She recommends a male ob-gyn and I decide to go with it. His style has always been kind, but very fast and very medical. I have liked the fact that I have seen him every time and he will be the one to deliver my baby. This was definitely the most medical experience I have had. I had about 4 ultrasounds, especailly because he discovered the polyhydramnios. I ended up having an amnio and then taking steroids, too, for the baby's lungs. I wonder how much of this style is Philadelphia big city caution and how much of it is absolutely necessary. And, of course, I don't want to find out. We want the controlled c-section for my safety and the baby's safety at this point. So, it seems strange to know that I will hopefully have a nice supper, (he even said I should have a glass of wine), get some sleep, and come in the next morning ready to go. I will shave my legs if I can reach them. I'll take one last picture of this enormous belly. I'll give my kids hugs and kisses and the same to my mom. And, we'll drive through rush hour traffic thanking God that modern medicine makes birthing possible for me--and many like me. I will always be a strong advocate for natural childbirth, but I will never say to someone you must be so disappointed that child was cut from your womb rather than pushed through your birth canal. I think it's not so black and white as that, ever.

My sous chefs

Right now, it hurts my back to be on my feet and I get out of breath quite easily. But, I knew the kids would enjoy helping me make Daddy's cake. They each got to measure, pour, and stand by the mixer. Adelaide really wanted to crack the eggs, which I tried to discourage. But, in her typical persistent manner she managed to grab one and bang it against the bowl really hard. Luckily, we seemed to get out most of the shell. I'll guess we'll know tonight when we eat it. Clean-up is usually a cinch because Elias gets to lick the bowl and Adelaide gets to lick the mixer. I was pleased that my Bacardi Rum cake came out without burning. What a difference a working oven makes.

Instead of a baby, I got this belly instead

Yes, I obviously have no true class. I am posting these pictures, however, to remember, what I looked like at 36 weeks with my third pregnancy--and most complicated one. Our little one is obviously a bit slow, which we know is typical of those males, but goodness. I'm not sure why he wants me to continue to be asked by random men in the Wawa if I'm having twins or whether he revels in my TUMS taking habit. In any case, we didn't want him in the NICU and the Dr, doesn't want me to go into labor on my own. So, we continue to walk a delicate balance between the two. We are hoping he will lose his immaturity and mature so I can have some relief from the balloon that is in my belly.

Bibi comes and conquers, leaves, and will return again!

Discussing the situation with the baby

Well, you know, Elias, it's better for us to just enjoy this beautiful day than to have to be in a stuffy hospital room.



That's what i was thinking. Why don't you join me out here for a drink?

That sounds great. I'll bring out some applesauce for an appetizer!

Elias gets in Touch with his Inner Dr. Phil

When I picked Elias up from school on Friday, he said, "Mommy, you forgot my puppets." "Oh, no, I got them. " I told him. He then looked at me and said, "Did you throw them away already?" I was a bit shocked and said, "No, I put them on your little desk with your other art materials." He went on to scold me and say, "But you recycle my other pictures and I don't like it. It makes me sad." After I heard my son and affirmed that, indeed, I understood that could make him sad, I asked "After one or two months can you help me go through your pictures and decide which ones to recycle?" He looked at me and said, "No. But we can recycle the drawings you and Daddy make."

It has been funny that in the last few weeks, Elias wants to draw all the time. He is really not a budding artist and we are about to deforest a small Amazonian forest at the rate we are going. For now, I'll just let all his masterpieces sit on his desk until this phase passes--then we'll clear out. In the meantime, I hung some of his school projects on the wall so that he could see we do appreciate them. Kids sure are funny--and perceptive.

And then there will be five...

Each child enters a family and makes his or her mark changing dynamics and adding new personality and joy and chaos to a family's life. It is fascinating to reflect on how differently each child's entrance has been in our lives. With the first, we (I) spent hours on-line looking into children's bedding for the crib. With the second, we borrowed a friend's extra crib and bought bedding at Target--on sale. And, with this one, I did buy two new sheets, but the baby has no crib of his own. (Yes, kind of like our dear Lord--no crib for a bed...) In fact, a few nights ago, Adam's brother asked what the theme of the baby's room is. Adam laughed and said, "Hopefully, my big sister will move into a the big girl bed so I can sleep in her crib."
And, yet, there has been plenty of fuss and attention surrounding this new life. Both kids have named the baby Luke Skywalker and may not be convinced otherwise. Adelaide still thinks my bellybutton is the baby's mouth and stuffs pacifiers into it. Elias asks questions like "How come the baby will not get a time-out for a very long time?" Inevitably, every night at dinner, the conversation moves over to the baby as he shifts and flips inside me. Because of all of this extra fluid, we are convinced he will be an Olympic swimmer of the likes of Michael Phelps. We are preparing a way for him. Just a different way with all else going on in our lives.
I have known to obsess about names--even when I was not married or pregnant, but this child has been the worse. I wake-up at night tossing and turning and calling him the same few names for a few days at a time. Perhaps, it's because I know we will not be having any more and will have to use our discarded names on a family dog or push them on our kids for our grandkids someday.
I took a special ride out to a shop on the "Main Line" the other day. You see, each child had a special coming home outfit. Elias had this adorable elephant outfit with elephant footies made by Sweet Potatoes. Adelaide had a white outfit with green peas and a matching blanket and charmed all the nurses when she put it on. Baby K had nothing as of yet. So, I found him a sweet white outfit with castles and dragons and knights on it. Yes, he is already being shaped by those who have come before him. And, lest he forget, Elias is quick to point out that, "I was born first." We are waiting to meet you, dear one. We really have prepared a place for you!

What have I forgotten?

The past few days have been dedicated to details such as getting out baby clothes, switching out winter clothes to spring clothes, tidying up toys, planting veggies in our back garden, and numerous trips to Target for those few items that may come in handy. It is strange to know what my time frame is and then get everything done so that I can truly have a baby. After all, we all know babies can not be born unless their moms have mopped the kitchen floor the night before.

Our strangest adjustment, however, is that after Easter Elias started the afternoon program at school. I used to pick him up at 11:30, we'd come home for lunch, Adelaide would nap, and he and I would do the quiet time dance. He would play a bit and then get to watch a video. Now I pack him a little lunch in his Spiderman lunch bag, he takes a rest at school with the other kids, and then plays. He has been so thrilled about this new adventure in his life. But, Adelaide has been confused and has asked "When are we getting brother?" It makes our day so much different because before, we had a short morning to run errands or do an activity, and now we have all day essentially. Of course, all that will change in about a week. This morning Adelaide and I actually played and read books for a while together. When she's not bossing me around, she's a very fun little girl.

I keep watching the clock because I feel like I have forgotten something--and then realize that Elias is safe at school and we have the rest of the afternoon ahead of us.

Easter Day!

Prepping for Easter

Yesterday was a quiet and solemn day to the extent that a 2 and 4 year old can keep a day like that. But, we decided to try a day with no radio, TV, shopping, and sweets. It was interesting. It mostly worked well in explaining the context of the day. I said that Good Friday is a day when we remember the sad things that happened to Jesus. Elias pondered on that a while. Later in the day he asked "Why do we want to remember sad things?" Good question, but I told him how it helps us understand the excitement of that empty tomb! Both Elias and Adelaide also wrote stories about Good Friday. Addie's picture was Jesus on the cross with his mom and dad and babysitter. Elias' story was about 9 pages and he was very proud that he was both "illustrator and author."

Here are some pictures of us dyeing eggs this afternoon! Fun...

New life on Holy Saturday

We took a trip over to some parishoners who have an organic farm. (They supplied us with some nice, organic cage free eggs to take home.) Can't wait for my bacon and eggs tomorrow morning! Their mama goat just birthed a new batch of baby "kids." We thought the timing was pretty good! Both kids liked playing with the kids and even Elias warmed up to the animals. Maybe he was born liking goats, but not dogs.

Holy Week

The kids participated in a wonderful children's walk through Holy Week. Adelaide was very taken with the whole event and kept telling us that, "Jesus washed my feet." In fact, yesterday on Good Friday the kids were mucking around outside and began to take their shoes off and put their feet in the fountain in front of the church. Said fountain is also a columbarium so I tried to stop them until they said, "We're just washing each other's feet!" Touche, Mom.